


The Professionals Part III

by teacupsandtime



Series: The Professionals [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Crossover, Eve is less happy about it, F/F, Hannibal and Villanelle are BFFs, I'm so happy these four are finally all together, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s02e8 You're Mine, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Villanelle loves Eve, Will and Eve have a lot in common, awkward dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 07:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandtime/pseuds/teacupsandtime
Summary: Set immediately after the season 2 finale of "Killing Eve", Villanelle brings a wounded Eve to Hannibal and Will.





	The Professionals Part III

**Author's Note:**

  * For [red_right_ankle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_right_ankle/gifts).



 

_Ran into a friend and lost track of time :p Still on for dinner?_

 

One minute

Three minutes. 

Seven minutes. 

Nine minutes.

_Yes_. 

***

“She didn’t say anything else?”

“No,” Hannibal said as he finished setting up the IV stand. 

“Eve?”

“I would imagine so.”

Satisfied that everything was in order, Hannibal left the room with Will close behind. Just beyond the threshold, the docile pit bull also came to stand and followed the men through the house.

“This feels strange,” Will said. “Like we’re tempting something.” 

He watched as Hannibal moved around the rooms, checking his stock of hidden knives. 

“Hannibal?”

He stopped and straightened himself, looking to Will patiently. 

“She works for MI6. And she’s coming to our home.” 

Hannibal stepped towards and and carefully took his hand. 

“She does,” he said. “But as much as Villanelle cares for this woman she would not bring her here if she believed that it would place us in danger. Nor would she ask were she not desperate.”

Will gripped his hand slightly. 

“I would never allow anything to threaten us - what we have.”

Will’s eyes looked to their dining room table, covered in a surgical white sheet. Next to it, a tray of shining steel instruments.

“I need you. Are you here with me?”

Squeezing harder, Will nodded just before the sound of tires on gravel hit their ears. Hannibal released his grip and slipped a nearby switchblade into his pocket before he opened the door. Will cast a long questioning look down at the dog who offered a quick cock of her head.

“Scout, stay here.” 

The dog obediently laid down as Will headed outside.

Standing outside just beyond the open door of the car was Villanelle, dressed in vibrant red. She approached Hannibal with her arms outstretched, speaking to him carefully as he slowly embraced her, his eyes locked on the slumped figure in the backseat. They parted as Hannibal moved towards the car, Villanelle at his side. He opened the rear door and reached inside, situating his arms under the knees and behind the back of the slight woman and pulled her up and out. 

Hannibal adjusted her weight in his arms and turned to head back inside. As they passed, Will made out the dark, wet stain on her sweater, her lips parting with a quiet moan. A gentle, familiar click of heels turned his head. 

“Hey, Will.”

“Hello, Villanelle.” 

She continued walking as he greeted her, stepping into the house as Hannibal finished laying the woman down on the table. He soothed her dark, curly hair away from her flushed face. 

“She isn’t seasoned yet,” Villanelle said with a smirk. 

Hannibal turned with his eyes narrowed and lips thinned.

“Is this Eve?” he asked sternly. 

Her features falling, she answered. 

“Yes.” 

Behind them, Will corralled Scout behind the closed door of a nearby room and joined them. 

“She’s been shot,” Hannibal said as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. 

Coming to his side, Will did the same.

“Yes,” Villanelle said again.

She watched as Hannibal pushed his ear to her mouth, his fingers closing around the pulse on her wrist. After a moment, he sharply pinched the thin skin between his fingers and watched as her eyelids fluttered and her lips twitched. 

“Has she been unresponsive the entire drive?”

“No,” Villanelle answered. “She’s been going in and out.”

“Is she aware of where she is? Of what’s happening?”

Villanelle shrugged gently. 

“She screamed some horrible things at me,” she said. “But then in the next breath she said something about wanting gumdrops.” 

Hannibal slipped a pair of surgical shears under Eve’s sweater and began to cut from the base up towards the top of turtleneck. With the sweater in two pieces , Hannibal pulled Eve up towards him as Will removed it, leaving her in her bra. He handed the ruined fabric to Villanelle who clutched it against her chest.

Will worked a bubble out of the saline bag hanging from the stand before Hannibal pushed a catheter into Eve’s arm. In her addled state she tried to move away from it. Villanelle came to stand next to the bed and held her hand lightly, the other still holding her sweater. 

“You don’t seem too concerned with all of this,” Will said.

“It’s a non-fatal shot,” she answered simply, her fingers lightly rubbing against Eve’s skin. 

Filling a syringe, Hannibal pushed the clear liquid into Eve’s IV drip. They both waited until Hannibal nodded to Will and then reached for the forceps on the table. 

“Step away, please,” Hannibal said. 

Releasing Eve’s hand, Villanelle moved back. Under her watchful gaze, Hannibal worked; he pushed the forceps into Eve’s lower abdomen, maneuvering it until it he was able to grab the bullet and pull it free. 

Villanelle swallowed and clutched the bloody sweater in her hands tighter. 

Will cleaned the area around her wound while Hannibal prepared the sutures, sewing her flesh back together before covering it with a bandage. 

“She’ll be fine,” Hannibal said. 

“I know,” Villanelle responded, blinking back tears in his eyes. “I told you - non-fatal.” 

When the wound was fully dressed, Will unhooked the catheter from her arm. Hannibal slipped his arms under her and carefully lifted her up from the table, walking towards their guest room. With Will and Villanelle close behind he placed Eve gently on the bed, propping her head up slightly with a pillow. 

Will opened the closet door and pulled one of his plaid button downs from a hanger. Moving with it towards the bed, he and Hannibal helped pull Eve’s limp arms through it before buttoning it up. When that was finished, Hannibal inserted another catheter into a vein at the top of her hand before pushing another syringe into the hanging bag of saline. 

“It will be some time before she wakes,” Hannibal said. “Will, would you please bring the car up around the back of the house?”

Will looked at him, and then at Villanelle. 

“Sure,” he said. 

“The keys are in the ignition,” Villanelle said.

He nodded and walked out of the room, calling for Scout as he did. Once the front door had closed, Hannibal turned towards Villanelle who had come to stand on the opposite side of the bed. 

They looked at each other from either side of Eve’s sleeping form. 

“Why did you shoot her?”

It was a question Villanelle had asked herself as she’d left Eve’s fallen body alone in the Italian ruins to retrieve the car. She heard it again as she returned and pulled her into the back seat. And again after she’d texted Hannibal and fled the city.

The answer had come in a memory of Hannibal’s own words. 

“Because she broke my heart.”

Hannibal blinked slowly, moving around the bed to stand next to her. 

“There are two people living today who I love,” he said gently. “You are one of them. But I will not let my affection for you threaten him or our life.”

Villanelle’s bottom lip trembled, her mind flashing back to the last conversation she’d had with Konstantin. 

“I know,” she managed. “We are not family.” 

Hannibal reached up and cupped either side of her face with his hands, his thumb brushing away a tear as it fell. 

“We _are_ ,” he said. “As though our very blood were the same. But I have lost him before and I will not lose him again. Oksana - ”

She locked their eyes. 

“I would not survive it,” he continued. “Nor would I want to.”

She wrapped her hands around his wrists.

“I will care for her,” he continued. “I will do everything I can to see the two of you safely off. But if she threatens our lives - in any way - I will kill her. Do you understand?”

She pulled his hands away from her face but kept her fingers locked with his.

“I do,” she nodded. 

Leaning in, he kissed her forehead and looked beyond her as he heard the front door open. 

“Go clean up,” he said. “Then come eat.”

***

Villanelle showered and dressed in the clothes that had been left out for her - a pair of Will’s jeans and button up similar to what Eve had been dressed in. She pulled the borrowed belt through to the last notch and secured it a her waist. With bare feet and damp hair she followed the smell of food to the kitchen. 

As she entered, Scout greeted her with a happy trot and wagging tail. 

“Hello, dog,” she said, offering her hand. 

Will watched them interact and offered a small smile. 

“There’s sandwiches here, if you’d like,” he said. 

Giving Scout a firm pat on her side, Villanelle took a seat at the table as Hannibal placed a plate in front of her. 

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you both.”

They nodded and joined her.

“We will leave here as soon as she can travel,” she said between bites. “Or before, if need be.” 

“Will she go with you?” Will asked. 

Villanelle looked at him, unsure if Hannibal had told him that it was she who shot her or if he inferred on his own. 

Not that it mattered. 

“Yes,” she said. “I think she will.” 

“And if she does not?” Will continued. 

She swallowed the food in her mouth, reaching forward to take a long drink of water.

“I will handle it.”

Will did not press her. 

“Let me make you dinner,” Villanelle said, her voice more chipper. “Both of you - all of us. I have a recipe for Shepherd’s Pie that is _so good_.” 

“That would be wonderful,” Hannibal said. 

As Villanelle opened her mouth to continue talking, they all heard a loud groan from the back room. Immediately, Villanelle came to her feet and turned to follow the sound. 

“Villanelle,” Hannibal said firmly, also rising. “You should not be the first person she sees.”

“But-”

“Come with me,” he said, beckoning her. “I will take you to town to get ingredients for tonight as well as some clothes.”

Will came to his feet and nodded. 

“Go,” he said. “I’ll take care of her.” 

Turning her neck to look towards the room one more time, Villanelle followed Hannibal out the front door and to his car. As they pulled out of the driveway, Will walked down the hall and into the guest room to find Eve sitting up and pulling at the needle in her hand.

“You should leave that,” he said. 

She looked up at him, eyes full of confusion. 

“Fluids,” he continued. “And morphine.” 

Grabbing a nearby chair, Will placed it at her side and took a seat. 

“Where am I?” Eve asked. “Who are you?”

“You’re with friends,” he answered. 

Her eyes scanned his face carefully and then moved around the room. 

“Where is she?”

“She’s with my husband,” he answered. “They’ve gone to get some food and clothes for you.” 

Eve looked down and pulled and the unfamiliar shirt wrapped around her.

“Thank you,” she said. “For this.”

Carefully, she pulled up the bottom the shirt and looked at the white bandage pressed into her belly. 

“And for that.”

“We took the bullet out and cleaned you up,” he explained. “No organ or nerve damage. You should make a full recovery.” 

“Lucky me,” Eve said. “I have to call my husband.”

Will shook his head. 

“You can’t do that, Eve.”

She looked at him, a cold rush moving through her. 

“Am I your prisoner?” 

“No,” Will said immediately. “We’re caring for you. We’ll see you on your way just as soon as you’re able but until then, we cannot allow you to contact any one.” 

Eve leaned back into her pillow, her eyes narrowing as she scanned Will’s face again. 

“Do I know you?” She asked. 

Will shook his head. 

“You seem . . . so familiar to me,” She added. 

“We’ve never met,” Will continued. 

“You’re friends of hers?” she asked. “Of Villanelle’s?”

“Yeah,” Will said. “I only met her somewhat recently but she and my husband have known each other for some time.”

Nodding, Eve allowed her shoulders to relax a bit and pushed back into her pillow. 

“I can’t believe she shot me.” 

“Can’t you?” Will questioned. 

“No, I guess I can,” she admitted. “I just . . . god, I don’t know how I got here. How this all happened like it did.” 

“You work for British Intelligence?”

She looked at him and nodded. 

“I did. Probably not anymore.” 

“We have a lot in common, Eve,” Will said. “I used to work for the FBI. Well, kind of. I was helping them try and catch a killer and instead I fell in love with him. And experienced my own becoming.” 

“Your becoming?” She questioned. 

“My self acknowledgment of who I really was,” he continued. “Of who I am.”

“And who . . . what are you?”

“A killer,” he said simply.

She stilled again, her fingers tightening on the bedspread covering her. 

“We’re not going to hurt you, Eve,” he assured her. “Not unless you do something thoughtless.” 

“What does that mean?”

Will was careful in how he spoke, letting his words carry the right amount of weight while also being gentle. 

“My husband and I are wanted men,” he said. “We’ve fought very hard to get where we are. Do you understand?”

Eve nodded. 

“Don’t do anything to threaten our freedom,” he continued. “Not now, not after you’ve gone.”

_Or we’ll kill you._

It went unsaid but Eve fully understood the authentic threat behind his placid words. 

“You should get some rest,” Will said, coming to his feet. “When they get back, we’ll have dinner. Do you need anything else?”

Eve shook her head. 

“No.”

Nodding, Will left the room, pulling the door behind him but stopping just before it clicked closed. 

***

“Is she awake,”Villanelle asked as soon as she walked through the door and saw Will. Scout trotted up to them and licked at their hands. Hannibal bent to give her a pat between the ears.

“She was,” he said. “She’s sleeping now.” 

She helped Hannibal place the bags on the kitchen counter.

“Is she very angry?”

“All things considered, no,” Will said. “She didn’t seem to be.” 

“I should go see her.”

“Come make your pie first,” Hannibal said. “Once it’s in the oven, then you should help her get ready for dinner.” 

She nodded and got to work unpacking all of the ingredients. Leaving her to work, Hannibal took Will’s hand and pulled him into the adjoining room. 

“You spoke with her?”

Will nodded and Hannibal leaned in to kiss his mouth softly. Staying close, he whispered against him.

“She understands?”

“She does.” 

Hannibal kissed him, pulling back to nuzzle against his ear. 

“I love you.” 

Will smiled slightly and pushed him away, kissing his lips again before walking back into the kitchen where Villanelle had started to chop and assemble the vegetables. 

“Do you like Shepherd’s Pie, Will?” 

“I do,” he said as he watched her work. “I haven’t had it in a while though.”

Moving to the stove, Hannibal pulled a pan down and placed it on the burner. As he reached for the oil, Villanelle slapped his hand away. 

“No, no!” She said. “Please, let me do it. All of it” 

Offering his hands up in apology, Hannibal stepped away and let her continue her work. Hannibal poured them all a glass of red wine, which Villanelle took with a wide smile. He placed his and Will’s on the counter as the two men took a seat on the kitchen stools. 

“Tell me what you’ve been up to!” Villanelle said as she unwrapped the mincemeat. “Where did you get your dog?”

Hannibal took a sip of his wine while he listened to them talk. 

***

Standing in front of the mirror, Villanelle brushed the hair out of her face and smoothed a crease out of her floral blouse. Taking in a deliberate breath, she grabbed the pile of new, folded clothes and walked towards the guest room. As she lifted her hand to knock, she felt her pulse quicken. 

“Co-come in.”

Opening the door, she smiled as she saw Eve sitting up in bed. Her hand was bandaged from where Will had come in just before and removed the catheter. As she approached, Eve regarded her with a calm expression. 

“Dinner is almost ready,” Villanelle said. “I’ve brought you some clothes.” 

She plopped the slacks and top on the bed and came to sit on the mattress.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” Eve said. “Where are we? Who are these people?”

“They are my friends,” Villanelle said. “And we’re safe.” 

“Safe?” Eve asked, managing a small laugh. “You _shot_ me.”

“You stabbed me.”

“So what? It was revenge? You put a bullet in me to get back at me?”

“I did it for your own good.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Eve exaggerated, lifting her eyebrows. “Do you want a ‘thank you’, then?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Villanelle said. 

“I have to go. I have to get out of here.”

Villanelle huffed out a breath.

“Go? Go where, Eve?” She asked. “Back to Carolyn? Back to MI6? They betrayed you. They betrayed both of us. You want to go back to them and explain how you chopped poor Raymond into teeny, tiny pieces?”

Eve felt her chest rise. 

“You made me kill him.”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” she said, turning to sit on her hip on the bed. “You killed him, Eve. You could have walked away - you could have let him strangle me. But you didn’t. You killed him because you _wanted_ to. And because you didn’t want me to die.”

Reaching out, Villanelle placed a tentative hand on her leg, expecting to be shoved away. But she was not. 

“You saved me,” she whispered. 

“And you repaid that with a bullet.”

Villanelle sighed. 

“Don’t get hung up on this, Eve,” she said. “It’s not like I was trying to kill you. But you can’t go back - not to Carolyn, not to your stupid husband. You can’t.” 

As she spoke, Villanelle remembered the sound Niko’s body made as it fell to the ground of the storage shed. 

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s a fact, Eve. You killed a man and now you’re on the run with an assassin.” 

“I could say you kidnapped me. Forced me to come with you.”

Villanelle smiled. 

“You could. But you won’t.”

The two women regarded each other, the air around them uneasy but familiar. 

“Come have dinner with me and my friends,” she said. “I’ve made you something special. You’ll feel better with your belly full and in a nice, new outfit.”

Eve looked at the pile of clothes near her feet. She considered her situation, her options and nodded. 

“Alright.”

“Good!” Villanelle said as she stood. “Do you need help?’

“No,” Eve said immediately as she moved the covers off her. As she tried to stand, she quickly sat back down. 

“Yes.” 

Smiling, Villanelle helped her to her feet. Her fingers found the front of Eve’s borrowed shirt and touched the top button. She waited a moment before she undid it it, and then the next and the next until the garment fell loosely at Eve’s side. They held each other’s gaze as Villanelle pushed the shirt off her body. Eve stood still and quiet as Villanelle’s fingers grazed the bandage before she reached for the deep red top she’d bought her. 

Carefully, she pulled it over Eve’s head and fitted the thin straps at her shoulders, smoothing out the rest of the garment which billowed loosely around her abdomen. Lowering her eyes, Villanelle reached down and wrapped her fingers around the button at the top of her pants. 

Eve caught her wrist.   
  
“I can do that,” she said.

“Okay,” Villanelle responded as she grabbed the new slacks from the bed. 

Eve didn’t ask her to look away as she undid her pants and carefully pulled them down. As she stepped out of them, she took the new pair from Villanelle.

“Let me - can you. . .”

Villanelle came close immediately, holding her steady as she stepped into the new pair of pants and fashioned them at her waist. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that they fit her perfectly. She stood up straight as Villanelle gently ran her fingers through her hair, grabbing handfuls and fluffing it out until it hugged her face in a thick, black mane. 

“Come on.”

Eve let Villanelle take her arm as they both walked slowly towards the dining room. They arrived to see that Will was already seated at one end of the table. He stood when they entered. 

“You look well, Eve. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” she said as Villanelle helped her to her chair.

“Where is Hannibal?” She asked. 

Eve’s eyes widened as the cold realization of why the man at the table had looked so familiarstruck her.

“The kitchen. He’s waiting for you.” 

“You’re going to love what I’ve made,” Villanelle smiled as she disappeared. 

Eve looked at the man at the table, at the scar on his forehead and cheek, his dark hair and blue eyes. The man who had worked for the FBI and had aided them in capturing The Chesapeake Ripper. 

Hannibal Lecter. 

Will Graham. 

She felt herself tremble as Hannibal walked into the room with a plate in each hand. He placed one in front of Will and the other at the place setting at the other end of the table. 

“Ms. Polastri,” he said. “It’s nice to see you up and about. Welcome to our home.”

She froze as he came towards her and extended his hand. Villanelle emerged from the kitchen holding the other two plates and stopped when she saw Hannibal’s outstretched hand and Eve not moving to take it. 

She held her breath. 

After a long moment, Eve reached out and took his hand, shaking it lightly.

“Thank you,” she said weakly. 

Hannibal smiled and took his seat. Villanelle exhaled and placed a plate in front of Eve before moving to sit across from her with her own portion. Eve looked at the meal - at the meat - in front of her and felt as though she would faint. She swallowed, the color leaving her face. 

“Eve,” Villanelle said. 

She looked at her from across the table. 

“I told you _I_ made it,” she smiled. “It’s your favorite!”

Eve looked back at her plate.

“Shepherd’s Pie?”

Villanelle nodded enthusiastically and took a bite. 

“It came out very well, if I do say so.”

Eve took another look around the table and then at the glass of water in front of her. 

“May I have some wine, please?” She asked as she looked at the decanter at the center of the table. 

“Not wise with the medication, I’m afraid,” Hannibal said. 

Eve looked at him in acknowledgement and took a long drink of the cold water. 

“Try it,” Villanelle said, motioning to Eve’s plate. 

Picking up her fork, Eve scooped up a small bite and brought it to her mouth, chewing slowly. 

“Is this . . . is this Niko’s recipe?”

“Ha! No,” Villanelle laughed. “It’s not like it’s a complicated dish, Eve. But I know you like it, so I made it for you.”

Eve felt a knot tightening in the pit of her stomach. 

“Thank you.”

Villanelle smiled and took another bite, washing it down with some wine. 

“Villanelle has told us so much about you,” Will said. 

“Oh?” Eve breathed, looking at him. “She hadn’t mentioned the two of you.” 

Clearing her throat, Eve continued. 

“How do you know each other?”

“I’ve known Villanelle for years now,” Hannibal explained. “We haven’t always been able to remain in contact but recent events have been kind to us. I assume you’re aware of the origin and extent of Will and I’s relationship?” 

Eve remembered that Will had called Hannibal his husband.

“The origin, yes,” she said. “Not the extent.” 

In her mind she struggled to pull forward anything she could remember reading about Hannibal. She knew that he had thrown lavish dinner parties where he’d served his unwitting guests human flesh. She knew that he had been incarcerated and had escaped during a botched FBI mission which had intended to use him to flush out another killer. She knew that both he and Will had been presumed dead - that they had fallen to their deaths. 

She also knew that Hannibal had an acute distaste for rudeness and incivility. 

“You have a very beautiful home,” she said. “Thank you for having me.”

Hannibal grinned at her.

“Of course.” 

They ate their dinner amidst quiet conversation, mostly between Villanelle and Hannibal with the former trying to coax Eve to join the chatter only to frequently receive a one or two word response before going silent again. When the food was gone, Eve asked to be excused and headed back towards the room she’d woken in, dismissing Villanelle’s offer of assistance. 

She closed the door behind her and immediately fell against it, her chest heaving and eyes burning. She couldn’t breathe, her throat and lungs were closed. Falling to her knees, she winced at the pain in her side and clasped her hands behind her neck, struggling to ground herself. 

In another life she would have expected to have fantasies of MI6 breaking down the door and taking her away from here. But in this reality, she found herself wishing that Villanelle would hold her. 

“Eve?”

The knock on the door made her gasp. She came to her feet, wiping tears from her eyes. Eve turned the knob and pulled Villanelle inside by her hand, closing the door behind them.

“You could have warned me,” she whispered harshly. 

“About what?” Villanelle asked. 

“What do you mean ‘about what’?” She responded incredulously. “About taking me to Hannibal the Cannibal’s house.” 

“Ooh,”Villanelle hissed. “I wouldn’t call him that. He isn’t fond of that nickname.”

Stepping away from her, Eve walked towards the bed on shaky legs and sat down, lowering her head between her knees. She felt the mattress dip as Villanelle sat down beside her and ran a soothing hand up and down her back.

“Hannibal says that if you feel well enough we could leave tomorrow.” 

Eve righted herself and looked at her. 

“What if I don’t want to go with you?”

Villanelle pulled her hand away and placed it in her lap.

“Then I’ll leave you here. With them.” 

She let the blood drain from Eve’s face before she laughed softly. 

“I’m kidding, silly,” she said.

Her fingers stretched forward and brushed Eve’s arm. 

“I won’t leave you here,” she continued. “If … if you really don’t want to come with me, I’ll get you a car. You can go back to London, to the people who betrayed you. Who lied to you. You can go back to your husband who doesn’t understand you anymore - who doesn’t excite you.”

Her fingers moved down and wrapped around Eve’s thumb. 

“Or you can come with me,” she continued. 

Eve looked at her, her mind both racing and utterly devoid of thought. She concentrated on the pain in her side and on Villanelle’s careful touch on her thumb. 

“I don’t know if I can be what you want me to be,” she said. 

Villanelle smiled. 

“I don’t want you to be anything for me,” she said. “I just want you to be you. _Come with me_.” 

In another life, Eve would have screamed; she would have shoved her away and demanded that Villanelle take her away from here, take her home. But in this reality, she found her lips moving almost without her consent. 

“Okay.”

***

Eve woke before the dawn the next morning to the sound of commotion in the house and the smell of coffee brewing. Carefully, she got out of bed and dressed back in the clothes Villanelle had given her the night before, thankful to find that she was more steady on her feet. She followed the quiet chatter to find Villanelle folding a blanket and placing it back on the couch she’d slept on. 

“Eve!” She said upon seeing her. “Did you sleep well?”

Eve rounded the corner and found Hannibal working over the stove with Will spooning what looked like homemade dog food into a large, silver bowl. 

“I did,” she said. “Thank you.” 

“I would love to have the two of you stay for breakfast,” Hannibal said. “But Villanelle mentioned that you were eager to be on your way.” 

A massive wave of relief washed over her. 

“Yes, yes, thank you.” 

“We could make you something for the road,” Will offered as he lowered Scout’s bowl to the ground. 

“No,” Eve said quickly. “I couldn’t impose on you any more than I already have.”

Will nodded and gave the dog a quick pat on her side before reaching to grab coffee for himself. Eve was grateful to see that Villanelle had already gathered their things and had them ready at the door. 

“Hannibal swapped our license plate,” she said as she approached her and handed her a new sweater. “And I have pain medication and medical supplies for you.” 

Slowly, she took it and pulled it over the thin top she had been wearing. 

“Are you ready to go?”

Eve nodded. 

“Yes, yes we can go.” 

Villanelle went to Will and opened her arms to him, squeezing him much tighter than he did in return. She then moved to Hannibal who held her warmly and whispered something close to her ear in Russian, handing her a thick envelope as they parted. She paused and tried to give it back to him but he insisted with a firm kiss to her cheek.

The four of them walked out to the car, Villanelle hugging Hannibal goodbye one last time before settling in behind the wheel. Once Eve was situated in the front passenger’s seat, she reached across her and pulled her seatbelt over her chest and lap, feeling for the knife Hannibal had warned her was missing. 

“Safety first.”

Hannibal and Will watched them pull away, the sun just starting to crest over the horizon. Reaching out, Will took his hand. 

“We should leave.”

Hannibal squeezed their palms together. 

“Yes,” he agreed. “A shame. I rather liked this place.” 

Will smiled sadly. 

“We should leave today,” Will said. “Is there anything here you can’t bear to be without?”

Hannibal turned to look at him. 

“Just one thing.” 

Will smirked as Hannibal laced their fingers and lead him back into the house. 


End file.
